


Relief and Fear and Terror

by halwen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Ficlet, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8739007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halwen/pseuds/halwen
Summary: Allura’s first thought, when Vox Machina had told her that a conclave of chromatic dragons had attacked Emon, had been wild, terrible relief that Kima was safe.

  Kima’s first thought, when Vox Machina had told her that a conclave of chromatic dragons had attacked Emon, had been fear for Allura.





	1. Relief and Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Allura’s first thought, when Vox Machina had told her that a conclave of chromatic dragons had attacked Emon, had been wild, terrible relief that Kima was safe._

Allura’s first thought, when Vox Machina had told her that a conclave of chromatic dragons had attacked Emon, had been wild, terrible relief that Kima was safe. It was not the thought she wished for herself, and would later reproach herself for, but she had long since reconciled herself to it; ten, five, even one year ago, she would have sternly reminded herself that she had made her choices, just as Kima had. But today, with the char of flesh heavy in the air and the screams of the dead still echoing across the stones, the knowledge that Kima was far from Emon, that Kima was safe and whole and unburnt, had washed over her and left her gasping and ruined in its wake.

She had sworn to herself, many years ago, that she would stand firm behind her convictions and not allow herself to be swayed by her regard for Kima. She had told herself, sternly, quietly, dejectedly, wistfully, that it was friendly regard she felt, gentle rivulets of affection that would run dry over the years. She had turned her back, distracted herself with Emon and matters of growth and harvest and trade, and returned now to find a sea lapping at her feet, inexorable and undeniable as the tide. She had stepped into cool relief, knowing that there was a storm at her back and not caring, for just a moment, so thankful was she that Kima was safe.

Then Vox Machina tells her of the arrival of an Ancient Red Dragon and all other thoughts flee in his advance. She has no thought for Emon, or herself, or Kima, only remembered fire and pain and terror that flares bright in the shadow of memory. She stumbles and is saved from falling only by Drake’s hand on her arm but she can spare him no thanks, for Thordak, the Cinder King, is upon them. She is mindless now, blind and deaf and nerveless, choking on the scent of charring flesh.

She chokes, and falls dying, and resurfaces standing in Greyskull Keep with Drake at her side and Vox Machina before her and ash and dust swirling through her hair and her path laid at her feet. She has a duty, to her people and to Emon and to Kima and to herself, and she cannot falter, even as her heart quakes and wails in her breast. There will be time later for sorrow and recriminations and would-have-beens; there must be.

There must be.


	2. Fear and Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kima’s first thought, when Vox Machina had told her that a conclave of chromatic dragons had attacked Emon, had been fear for Allura._

Kima’s first thought, when Vox Machina had told her that a conclave of chromatic dragons had attacked Emon, had been fear for Allura. Allura was in Emon, and Emon was in danger, and Allura would defend her people, as she had always done, and Kima could bear anything, so long as she knew Allura was safe. Acid worry had threaded through her veins and stitched her lungs tight as she had pressed for any information they might have, any slim assurances or thin comforts they could provide. Relief had been solid ground under her feet when they had professed her safety, that Drake was with her, that she was free and whole and hopeful. 

Kima had known better than to pray that those blessings might continue, when it was Allura’s own compassion and bravery that were their chiefest threat, but she had prayed nevertheless, for the protection of the people of Emon and Allura’s safety and forgiveness. She had reached for the rock of Bahamut and had felt him steady and strong at her back and had sighed deep in gratitude, knowing her prayers had been heard. She had accompanied Vox Machina to the Tomb of the Champion of the Raven Queen, and had felt no qualms, knowing her god was at her back. They had returned from that quest, objective acheived, and all had been well.

Then Vox Machina tells her of the return of Thordak, the Cinder King, and all else drowns in the howling wind of memory, thought and breath and voice all gone in a storm of lightning-white terror. She chokes on ash and dust and stumbles unsteadily to the door, then falls to her knees on the rough cobbles and prays that Bahamut will know her wordless intent.

A part of her wants to curse Bahamut, for she had long begged that this scourge would be forever absent from the material plane. But even in her distress she sees the futility of that prayer, for the gods work only through the faithful, and Bahamut could have only failed through her own inaction and cowardice. She is forsworn, if Thordak is returned indeed, but that is her own doing, not His. She is forsworn, and Allura, strongest, bravest, canniest, Allura, who is dearest to her of all save her god, will pay the price. 

It is nigh unbearable, but it is the truth, and so must be borne, and so she does. It is one of the most painful things she has ever done, but she stands, and breathes, and marches forward. She is strong, and beneath the terror that still haunts her breath she feels anger building, the inexorable strength of it gathering deep in her gut. Soon it will shake free, and woe betide any who stand in her way. She is strong, and her faith is her bedrock, deep and sturdy and unassailable, her love like veins of precious ore threaded through inextricably. She loves Allura, and she loves Bahamut, and through them loves all in the world they love, and so she stands strong and will challenge any who threaten them, even the Cinder King. 

And so she stands strong, and breathes, and fights. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Relief and Fear and Terror](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807890) by [argentumlupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine)




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